


Wynonna Earp - The Novelisation

by weepingxngels



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 12:16:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20309356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weepingxngels/pseuds/weepingxngels
Summary: This is my interpretation of the episodes of Wynonna Earp if it was a novel/book before a TV show. Each episode will equate to one chapter.DISCLAIMER: I don't own ANY of these characters, nor did I come up with the storylineLeave a Kudos :))





	Wynonna Earp - The Novelisation

Under the cover of night, the coach crept silently along the dusty, cobbled road. The sepia-brown tree trunks loomed intimidatingly above them. It was a hellish sight to see; the branches twisted and contorted into menacing figures, reaching up to the sky. Deep in the forest, the flaming orange leaves had fallen to the ground, and the empty space they left had been replaced by mint green leaves. Above them, the moon stood solitary in the sky. It glared down at the passengers, causing terrifying shadows to scuttle alongside them on the road. The hum of the engine, along with the motion of the coach created a calming sense of familiarity among the passengers.  
On the inside of the coach, the passengers sat in their dilapidated grey seats in silence. At the back of the coach, the bright lights began to flicker. The sound of the bathroom door creaking open grabbed a girl's attention. She whipped her head around and saw a woman stood at the back of the coach. She had a commanding presence. She was an anomaly in the monotony of the Badlands. The studs on her leather jacket reflected the light of the coach. The woman began to descend the aisle, the buckles on her boots clinking with every step. Around her neck hung a beautiful necklace. It had a long gold chain with three things attached; The first was The Mati, known in the Greek culture to ward off the ‘Evil Eye'. The second item was a small black piece of fringe, representing her country roots, and the third was a key with the inscription 'Αθηνα' or 'Athena' in English. Her dark hair cascaded down her back and swished side to side as she walked. She lowered herself onto the seat opposite the girl. The girl watched as the woman leant back against the window, her eyes drifted to the sights of the Badlands. She propped her feet up on the seat beside her to get more comfortable. "How was it?" The girl asked her, referring to the bathroom on the coach.  
The woman lifted her head up to look at the girl. She studied her for a second before replying, "That bathroom is a crime against humanity!" She raised an eyebrow before continuing, "I'd put down the coffee if I were you," she said, gesturing to the coffee cup in the girl's hand. The girl looked down at her own petite hands.  
"It's gone cold now anyways. I've never gone this long between hipster coffee shops," she replied, chuckling at her own joke.  
"First time out West?" the woman asked kindly, her head rested back on the window. The girl only gave a small nod as a reply. She was too busy wrestling with her long grey cardigan, trying to cover her body to shield herself from the piercing wind. "Next stop's mine," the woman said, folding her arms dubiously.  
"You live here?" the girl asked – she was desperate to learn more about the beautiful stranger opposite her.  
The woman chuckled to herself as if the thought somehow amused her. "No," she smiled sadly at the girl. "Not anymore." She turned her head away from the girl for a moment and looked out of the window. "Funeral. My uncle's." She turned back and looked at the girl.  
The girl smiled at the woman sympathetically. "I'm Kiersten. What did you say your name was again?"  
The woman did not respond, she simply looked out of the window. To Kiersten, it seemed as if she was in a world of her own.  
For the woman, she did not hear what Kiersten asked her. Her mind was still on why she left her hometown in the first place. Before she knew it, the green and black collage of the Badlands twisted, turned and morphed into the orange and red structure of her childhood home.

"There's so many of them!" She heard the voice of a little girl scream. Her older sister, Willa. "You said they can't attack the house!" she screamed at her father. Across the room, ravenous hands scratched at the window, prying hard for an opening.  
"They've figured out how to get around the bedrock!" their dad said. His heart was thumping in his chest and panic invaded his lungs.  
Willa's eyes flickered around the wood-lined room. On a small table a few feet from her, she saw The Gun. The silver plating and inscriptions reflected the light from outside providing a small piece of light for the room. "I've got the gun, daddy!" she said as she ran and picked it up to bring it to her dad. As she retrieved the gun, her father pulled one of their many bookshelves over and covered one of the windows in their home.  
Huddled in the corner of the room, the younger version of the woman cradled her little sister in her arms. "Let's close our eyes and sing Mama's lullaby. Just until the bad guys go away."  
As soon as she had finished her sentence, she heard a deafening crash and a short scream. She turned her head to see her older sister frozen in fear.  
"DADDY!" Willa screamed.

A loud bang from the coach brought the woman reeling back to reality. "Oh, Christ!" the coach driver muttered to himself as he shifted the gear stick, ready to pull over and inspect the problem.  
"That's it," Kiersten said, bring the woman's focus over to her, "I'm going to burst." As she began to get up to use the coach toilet, a tall woman walked past her and proceeded to enter it.  
"No!" Kiersten sighed, slumping back down in her chair dejectedly. "Time to introduce Chestnut Latte to the Badlands." As Kiersten got up and began to walk to the front of the coach, the woman finally spoke.  
"Kiersten... don't go out there." She stopped walking to turn and look at the woman.  
"Why?" she asked, slightly confused.  
The woman knew the one rule when travelling through the Badlands and surviving; don’t get off the coach. "It's dark," she said, looking out of the window.  
"Pretty and smart," Kiersten stated jokingly, "We're gonna get along just fine!" With that, Kiersten proceeded down the aisle and followed the driver off of the coach. The woman sat back in her seat.  
As Kiersten proceeded toward the shelter of the terrifying trees, the driver stayed within the safety of the coach's light. He knelt down next the front tire, using the tire iron as support as he lowered himself. Cautiously, he reached in-between the framework and the tire to see what had pierced it, causing them to stop. As his hand retracted, he found a blade. It had been lodged into the wheel in such an awkward position that it must have been put there by hand and not just lying on the road. Behind him, he heard the sudden sound of rustling leaves followed by a guttural growl. This sudden movement, along with the suspicious flat tire, made the driver want to get out of the Badlands as soon as possible.  
Inside the bus, the passengers began to chatter. After hearing the gut-wrenching screech, the woman turned her head to see what was going on.  
"Did you hear that?" asked one passenger.  
"Yeah!" another replied.  
Everyone on the left side of the bus got up and moved to the right side to look out of the window to try and decipher their current situation.  
Another terrifying scream was heard.  
Further in the woods, Kiersten was busy trying to find her way out of the place. She stopped suddenly when she heard the first growl. "Hello?" she asked as she unintentionally ventured further into the wooded area. With each step she took, the leaves crunched. A second scream was heard. Kiersten stopped in her tracks. Fear had infiltrated her mind, body and soul. Slowly, she retreated backwards, her breath heavy.  
A third and final shriek was heard. This was the last straw for the driver. He ran back onto the bus and closed the doors.  
"What's going on?" the woman asked. She needed someone to rationalise the situation for her.  
"Sit down. Everyone sit down." The coach driver stuttered. "We're leaving." Another hair-raising wail was heard. Everyone turned their head towards the source of the sound.  
"I've heard this before," the woman said, backing away from the window.  
"Wolves?" someone asked her.  
"Something's outside," the driver stated.  
The woman snapped back to reality and turned to face the driver. "Yeah, a passenger!" she stormed down the aisle and towards the driver.  
Meanwhile, Kiersten had suddenly been knocked over by a hidden force. She dropped to the ground, her knees in pain. That same force began to drag her body backwards. She tried to stop moving by grabbing the ground but failed. Through a mixture of fear and anger, she screamed as loud as her lungs would allow it.  
Back on the bus, the passengers heard Kiersten's scream. "We have to do something," the woman said to the driver.  
"Yeah, drive!" a passenger said. The driver was conflicted. Should he save the girl, or save himself?  
"Come on, we can't just leave her!" the woman said in disbelief. She couldn't believe that they wanted to leave the girl to possibly die!  
"You'd have to be nuts to go out there," the driver said, making up his mind. The rest of the passengers' mutter in agreement and encourage the driver to leave. The woman gave them all one last look of disbelief. She shook her head, then grabbed the tire iron and pulled open the doors.  
As she ventured into the forest, she began to regret her decision. The only comfort she held was the knowledge that it was the right one. Before she had even ventured further than 15 feet away from the coach, she heard the engine restart and begin to drive off. "Assholes!" she said to herself as she continued to walk further into the darkness of the woods. "Hey!" she shouted as she ducked under a fallen tree branch, "If you hurt her, I'll kill you!"  
Another guttural scream was heard. "Kiersten?" The woman shouted over the terrifying sound. She was eager to get Kiersten and leave the Badlands. The further into the forest she went, the more she felt as if it were pointless. "Let her go! We're armed!" she shouted at Kiersten's unknown captor. "Badly," she muttered to herself, ducking under another fallen tree trunk. She continued to walk until she spotted a parting in the leaves. It looked as if someone had been dragged along the floor. She followed the trail with her eyes until she saw it. "Oh, my God!" she muttered. Kiersten's severed head sat on a makeshift pyre, her eyes glazed over and cloudy.  
A shriek originating from a mound of branches grabbed the woman's attention. A pair of piercing red eyes were all that could be seen in the darkness of the night. The woman stumbled back into the leaves, her heart pounding in her chest. The sight of Kiersten's head had sickened her to her very core. Suddenly she was violently pulled back by her feet and tossed against an old oak tree. A short scream of fear escaped her lips. She stood up, panting and stumbled over to where she had dropped the tire iron. As if he had super speed, a man came running towards her, swiping at her face. "WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME!" she screamed in anger. Another scream followed by a swipe at her face caused her to get knocked down to the ground once again. A noise from her phone grabbed her attention. The 'Happy Birthday' jingle played. As she looked up to the sky, she felt a weird feeling encompass her. It felt as if she had the strength, power and confidence of 10,000 warriors. A small smile appeared on her face as she sat up. She was ready for whatever faced her next. "Head rush!" she said as she breathed deeply.  
She looked up to see a man in a denim jacket racing towards her. She swiped in a circular motion with the tire iron and hit him square in the jaw. After throwing a mean right hook and powerful kick straight to the chest, the man was on the ground and writhing in pain. She screamed and dove at him. Skilfully, she plunged the tire iron into his left eye. He grabbed the makeshift weapon and tried to pull it out of his eye. He got up and crouched on a pile of twigs, smiling gleefully at the woman, his red eye glowing in the darkness. He pulled and pulled at the tire iron, finally pulling it out his eye, a small squirt of blood splattering on the leaves below. He turned and smiled at the woman, growling like an animal. A glowing symbol appeared on the side of his face. It looked like it had been etched into his skin with a knife of some type and was on fire all at the same time. He suddenly jumped up and seemed to disappear.  
The woman's phone began to ring again. She regained her focus and pulled it out of her pocket, her breathing heavy. It was a message from her sister which read; 'HAPPY BIRTHDAY! xx'  
She walked back to the cobbled road. By this time, the sun had begun to rise, turning the sky into a light green. The woman walked along the road, the dirt crunching under every step. "Welcome home, Wynonna," she muttered to herself as she passed a sign. 'Welcome To PURGATORY. Only 7 miles away. You'll Never Want to Leave!'

-*-*-*-

A few hours had passed, and Wynonna had finally reached the town. By this time, the sun was high in the sky. She knew that the police station would be open now, so she was on the phone.  
"Where exactly?" the voice from the phone asked.  
"Just outside the city limits," she replied, continuing to walk towards her destination.  
"And the cause again?"  
"Uh, maybe... animal attack," she said. Wynonna knew that they would not believe her if she explained what had really happened.  
"Okay. And your name is?"  
"My name?" Wynonna asked, almost offended by the question. She hung up the phone, removed the sim card, snapped it in half then discarded it on the floor. Wynonna turned around and saw a large house, and a group of people gathered in the backyard. She sighed and proceeded onto the property.  
The group of people stood around a small flattened area of upturned ground lined with rocks. A small bunch of red flowers were placed on top of it. A grave. "Curtis was not a handsome man," a woman said. She looked to be in her late fifties, her peach cardigan glistened in the sun. Everyone knew her as Gus. At this point in time, Wynonna was close enough to hear the eulogy being said. "When I first lay eyes on him at the cookout, I said to my sister, 'Just how closely related are his parents.'" Wynonna had joined the crowd of people. They separated to make room for her, but they also gawked at her as if she was an exotic animal in a zoo. This minor commotion also grabbed Gus' attention.  
"But he was loyal," Gus continued, "Traits folk nowadays might find old fashioned... Boring," as she uttered the last word, she looked Wynonna directly in the eyes, causing Wynonna to feel a sense of irremovable guilt. She hung her head in shame. "Thing is, with Curtis, I was never bored. Not once."  
After the Eulogy had finished, those who listened to it proceeded inside to join the other guests. As Wynonna entered the house, their conversations quietened until it was utterly silent, bar the music, and they were all staring at her. "What are you doing here?" a bearded man asked her. Wynonna did not respond, she just continues walking around the corner. Gus was at the food table, serving up a plate for herself.  
"You're late, as usual," Gus said to Wynonna, not stopping what she was doing to look at her.  
"I'm so sorry, Gus," Wynonna replied.  
"I thought you were in Spain,"  
"Greece when I heard," Wynonna walked behind Gus and around to the other side of the table before continuing. "Listen, I know Purgatory is country and all, but is it legal to bury your husband in the garden," she chuckled at her own joke but stopped abruptly when she saw the look on Gus' face.  
"Only thing Curtis loved more than me was his tomatoes," she said, looking out of the window, "Who am I to separate soulmates?" Gus walked in-between Wynonna and the table to reach the breadbasket. "They said it was a stroke," Gus told her.  
"Bullshit!" she stated fiercely, "He was still tossing hay bales like a teenager."  
"Champ was with him," Gus said, "but he didn't see what happened."  
"Hardy 'Rodeo Champ' Champ?" Wynonna asked.  
"Yeah. He's a good kid." Gus replied, not believing what she was saying. Wynonna edged closer to Gus and spoke in a hushed tone.  
"Gus, when they found Uncle Curtis, was he still... intact?"  
"Wynonna!" Gus exclaimed, shocked by the insinuation.  
"I just want to find out what happened," ever since the attack on the homestead, Wynonna did not take anything at surface level. She was wary of everyone and everything.  
"He died," Gus said shortly, "Please, Wynonna, let it go. For once,"  
As Gus walked away, Wynonna uttered six words, "It was a really nice eulogy."

-*-*-*-

Back in the forest, the police had set up a crime scene around the bottom half of Kiersten's dead body.  
One police officer was crouched over Kiersten's body, taking photographs for evidence. Sheriff Nedley stood in his beige trousers, the navy-blue strip down the right side of his trousers gleamed in the sunlight. His navy-blue shirt was tucked into his trousers, and his brown leather belt had a holster holding a .40 S&W. "Runaway? Whore?" Nedley said. He was speaking about Kiersten. "Who knows what kind of trouble this girl got herself into?" Nedley said to a man who was crouching facing east. He was a thin brown man with a quiet manner and a noticeable slouch.  
"Spoken like a man who finds a lot of dead girls," the man said. He stood up and smoothed out the wrinkles of his dark grey suit. "And you've had three of ‘em in the past six months." He walked over to the police officer who was photographing Kiersten's body, his hands in his pockets. He looked at his watch and pulled his silver-plated pen out of his breast pockets. "So, you find…" the man continued, crouching down over Kiersten, "Kiersten's head yet" The suited man had found Kiersten's ID and therefore discovered her name.  
Nedley did not answer and simply replied with a question of his own, "Which agency did you say you were from?"  
"See those skid marks?" the man replied, ignoring Nedley's question. He pointed directly in front of him with his pen looking up slightly. Nedley looked in the direction the man had pointed. "This isn't the kill site." The man got up and looked at Nedley.  
"Driver said two of ‘em got off the bus," Nedley said to the man.  
"Okay," the man said, "so where's the other body? And these lacerations," he said, walking around Kiersten's body and up to Sherriff Nedley, "defensive wounds?"  
"Bite marks… from scavengers," Nedley replied. He wouldn't admit that anything abnormal was going on. "We have an overpopulation of coyotes this summer. Winter will thin out the pack. You plan to be out here that long, Mr…?"  
"Dolls," the man said going in his pocket and pulling out a badge to show it to Nedley, "Deputy Marshal Dolls." He put his badge back into his inside pocket in his blazer before continuing, "And I'll be here as long as it takes."  
Dolls brushed past Nedley towards an object that was glistening in the sun and bent down beside it as Nedley continued. "Well, then welcome to the bustling metropolis of Purgatory, where nothing lives but cattle and cowboys."  
"And maybe..." Dolls continued as he knelt down at inspected the object. He discovered that it was a necklace. He reached into his `breast pocket and pulled out his pen he hooked the chain and lifted it up to inspect it closer, "the occasional Greek goddess." It was Wynonna's necklace. Dolls pulled out an evidence baggie and put the chain in it, walking up the path towards one of the many police cars.  
"What'll I tell the locals happened out here?" Nedley called after Deputy Marshall Dolls.  
"Runaway hooker. Coyote attack." Dolls said still walking, "Anything but the truth, right?" Dolls got into the police car and drove off.

-*-*-*-

Wynonna had spent enough time at the funeral and decided to walk into town. She was glad to finally arrive at ‘Shorty's Saloon'. There was a row of motorbikes outside which belonged to Purgatory's very own biker gang. She entered the vast oak doors to Shorty's and was greeted with a familiar smell of whiskey and regret. She looked around and took in her surroundings. Everything was as she remembered it; the wooden steps down to the bar, the old pool-table, everything. Wynonna giggled slightly as she proceeded to the bar. The bartender wore a floral blue and white shirt and walked toward Wynonna. She was smiling hard, glad to see him.  
"Well," the man said, grabbing two empty beer bottles as he spoke, "either I'm sucking fumes out of the back of Willie Nelson's tour bus, or Wynonna Earp just walked into my bar."  
Wynonna sat on one of the bar stools as she responded to the man, "Hey, Shorty. How's business?"  
"Mechanical bull broke a month ago. Chippendale's night was a bust. Not to mention this shit about a dead runaway. Rule number one: You never get off the bus." Shorty reached to his left and picked up two clean shot glasses.  
"I did." Wynonna leaned closer to shorty and spoke in a hushed tone.  
"You were--?" Shorty paused, and his eyes darted around before he started again. "Did you tell the cops?"  
“I phoned it in anonymously." Wynonna scoffed.  
"Uh-huh," Shorty responded. He looked concerned for Wynonna. A look she wasn't used to seeing. It made her shift slightly in her seat. Wynonna tilted her head slightly before explaining herself to the man.  
"Two stints in juvie, a summer riding with the Banditos, and I'm still wanted for questioning in the Bleaker Case. My relationship with law enforcement es un poco complicated," as she finished her sentence, she used her index finger to push the continually empty shot glass towards Shorty.  
"How about un poco of liquid courage?" Shorty replied as he unscrewed the lid of the tequila and began pouring into the glasses."  
"Alright, just one, yeah. I gotta focus. I'm here for Gus and Curtis. Somebody knows what really happened to my uncle." Just as she was about to take the shot, a man's voice penetrated her ears, causing her to temporarily pause her actions.  
"Where you been, Wynonna?" Both Shorty and Wynonna turned in the direction of the voice.  
"As far from here as I could get," Wynonna threw back the shot, pausing slightly to listen to the man speak.  
"Lucky you. You know, if I could leave Purgatory, I'd never come back." Wynonna reached over the bar and grabbed the bottle before turning around and pouring herself another shot. "Why would Wyatt Earp choose to settle in this shithole?"  
"My money's on the deep gene pool." She walked past the man and towards the pool table. As the man continued, she picked up a pool cue and chalked the end.  
"Well, maybe your great-great-grandpappy got a few lucky shots in at the O.K. Corral," he got up and walked behind Wynonna, "and fled before they found out he was a fraud," Wynonna didn't react, so he continued, trying to get a reaction out of her. "Didn't he marry a whore?"  
"An actress." She responded bluntly.  
"Oh, shit!" Wynonna blew the excess chalk off of the cue and made brief eye contact with Shorty who was currently wiping the bar with a wet cloth. "She's probably the one who gave Doug Holliday the ‘clap' that done him in." Wynonna had had enough of Carl's hearsay and had to speak up.  
"Doc! Doc Holliday, dumb-ass. And it was tuberculosis that killed him, you ignoramus."  
"This coming from the pair of tits so insane, so cursed?" Wynonna flinched slightly and looked up at him. That hit her somewhere dark inside.  
"What did you say?" The word ‘cursed' continued to rattle around her head, sparking a wave of anger inside. Before he could reply, a different man walked up behind him and smacked Carl on his back as he spoke.  
"Getting beat up by a girl again, Carl?" Deciding it was the best, Carl walked off to the other side of the bar.  
"Champ!" Wynonna exclaimed, tapping him lightly on the chest. "My hero!" she said sarcastically as she struck the white ball and potted the yellow number one. Champ stood back slightly to let her past.  
"Sweet!"  
Wynonna manoeuvred around Champ to get to the blue number two ball "Listen, uh. I was hoping I could talk to you about what happened to my uncle," she potted the ball… mostly for dramatic effect.  
"Bring those lips, we can, um, ‘talk' all night long." He smiled at her, and she smiled back.  
If she was being honest, Wynonna had no interest whatsoever in Champ. Although he was tall and muscular, she was slightly repulsed by him. His auburn hair flopped down over his forehead, but it was apparent to Wynonna he had spent at least an hour in front of the mirror. He was vain, and she didn't like it. However, she really needed to know what happened to her uncle and was willing to ‘talk' to Champ, but for no longer than about thirty seconds. She continued to flirt with him, though.  
"You didn't pay me a second glance in high school." She stated, and it was true.  
"Hey, you were kind of a freak," Champ said defensively. He didn't want to ruin his chance with her.  
"You have no idea," she said as she pulled in closer to him.  
Champ led her upstairs into ‘his' apartment. It was right above the bar and convenient for him. Hands shaking, he unlocked the front door and gestured for Wynonna to go in.  
"Wow, Shorty lets you stay above the bar, huh," Wynonna said emphatically, she was less than impressed, to say the least.  
"Yeah, I… got a key," he raised the keychain up so that Wynonna could see it more clearly.  
"Oh, that's impressive." Wynonna sighed loudly and took off her leather jacket to reveal a red tank top.  
"Mm-hmm," he was staring at her chest as she looked around.  
"So, um..." she caught his eye. She was now well aware of what he was looking at but was so tired she didn't even care. All Wynonna wanted was answers. "You ran ranch security with Curtis, but you didn't bother to make his service." Wynonna led Champ to the bed as he spoke.  
"Yeah, I, uh… I hate funerals."  
"Ugh," Wynonna replied, still walking towards the bed "Tell me about it!" She ran her hand along Champ's shirt, a fake smile plastered on her face. "Gus mentioned you were the one who found his body."  
"Yeah. Speaking of bodies," Looking down at her, he ran his hands along Wynonna's arms, "Mad hot!"  
"All right, Champ," Wynonna said as she shoved Champ onto the ned behind him and climbed on top of him. She reached forward and aggressively ripped his button-down open. Unexpectedly, she pulled out a flip-knife and positioned it in the middle of his chest.  
"Yeah. Maybe this isn't such a good idea," he said as he felt the cold metal on his skin. He tried to sit up as he spoke, "Do you know what time it is?"  
"Yeah. Time for you to tell me how Curtis died."  
"H-h-he just did!" Champ stuttered.  
Wynonna lifted the knife and flipped it her hand. As she spoke, she leaned further, so the blade was positioned directly between Champ's eyes, "No, No. Don't make me get rough."  
"This ain't rough?" Champ asked, smirking slightly.  
Wynonna moved the knife so that it rested on his throat. Champ's smirk dissolved.  
"Look, I heard screaming and screaming, and I ran. Called the Sheriff. When they found him, his head had been torn clean off." Champ choked audibly while Wynonna sat in thought. She removed the knife squeezed his cheeks together roughly.  
"Listen you washed-up rodeo clown. Who did it? What did you see?"  
"Cattle mutilations, lights in the hills, strange marks in the dirt." Wynonna twisted one of Champ's nipples, and he cried out in agony. "He died on your land, Wynonna!"  
"The homestead?" She sat up and repositioned the point of the knife at Champ's throat. "Show me where."  
"I'm not going back there," he replied, his voice trembling.  
"You're in this with me now, ‘Champ', and no one else is gonna save you," she gave him a few taps on the forehead with the knife for dramatic effect. Suddenly, the door was open, and a woman was at the door, shotgun in her hand. She was wearing a pair of high-waisted black denim shorts and a blue and red long-sleeved crop top with the word ‘SHORTYS' in an old-timey font, outlined in white.  
"Oh! Except his girlfriend, you skank." Wynonna dove over Champ's head when she heard the voice. She heard the gun cock and ducked down below the bed as a shot sounded. Before she knew it, there was a hole in the wall where her head had previously been. Champ had sheltered himself in the corner of the room, his hands shielding his head. They heard the woman speak again. "Why don't you slip into something more comfy, huh? Like a coma," she cocked the gun again and shot the pillow, feathers flying around the room. Wynonna's hands shot up into the woman's eye line as a surrender.  
"Worst birthday ever!" Wynonna shouted, her life in the hands of the seemingly crazy lady.  
"Wynonna?" The woman stuttered, the gun rested at her side.  
Wynonna slowly stuck her head up and began to speak, "Hey, sis." Wynonna stood up and turned to face her sister, "You grew out your…" she gestured towards her chest and hesitated, "hair!" Her sister smiled slightly at Wynonna.

-*-*-*-

"Did you plant our birthday gifts?" The man that attacked Wynonna and killed Kiersten stood on the porch of the Earp Homestead leaning against a wooden fence surrounding the landing. He had a makeshift-leather eyepatch covering his left eye. His voice was raspy and deep. It had an affinity to nails on a chalkboard.  
"Oh, yeah," a bald man replied. He wore a black t-shirt and a sleeveless leather jacket. He stood tall with his arms crossed over his bulging stomach. A third man stood behind the bald man. He was smaller than the other two men, and his nose twitched slightly in fear of the one-eyed man.  
The one-eyed man stood up properly and walked towards the first as he spoke. "Oh, hey, Carl. I heard you talked to Wynonna at Shorty's. Brought up the Earp curse." Carl swallowed.  
"I didn't mean nothing."  
"We can't have you running off your mouth before we get what we need, can we, pal?” The one-eyed man asked menacingly.  
"Come on, Malcom." Carl said to Malcom the one-eyed man, his breathing deep yet unsteady. Malcom grabbed carl by the face with one hand and laughed maniacally. His one eye turned hell-fire red, just like before. "If you can't hold your tongue…" Malcom reached into Carl's mouth and began to pull on his tongue. An ear-splitting rip was heard and suddenly, Malcom was holding a tongue in his hand, and Carl's mouth was full of a thick black substance. The bald man and Malcom laughed as the black liquid spilt down Carl's chin. "I will. Now we stick to the plan, then we kill the girls. Got it?" he asked John, the bald man.  
"Mm-hm," he replied.  
"Got it?" Malcom asked Carl.  
"Mm-hm," he replied tentatively. Carl threw the tongue onto the floor and crushed it under his tan coloured boots.

-*-*-*-

"What are you doing in town?" Wynonna's sister, Waverly, asked as the two of them walked along the street outside of Shorty's, "I mean, besides my boyfriend?" They crossed the road together.  
"I wasn't gonna ‘do' anyone, least of all that man-child." Her sister crossed her arms as they kept walking. "I'm trying to find out what happened to Curtis. Oh, and you can do better."  
"Small town, limited dating options," Waverly replied.  
"Yeah. I remember."  
"Hey," her sister said as she whacked Wynonna on her arm.  
"Ow!" she moaned. They had stopped dead on the other side of the road. "What?"  
"It's been three years. God! Come here," and with that, she pulled her sister into a tight hug. "You couldn't tell me you were coming."  
"I wasn't," Wynonna replied as they pulled away. "Then, uncle Curtis sent me an e-mail."  
"What? What did it say?" her sister asked.  
"‘They've caught up with me'," Wynonna replied.  
"I knew it wasn't a stroke," she said matter-of-factly. "It's starting again, isn't it? We need that gun."  
"Ok, I'm not doing this!" Wynonna said walking towards the patch of grass near them. Her sister pursued.  
"Wyatt Earp's gun. The same one disappeared—"  
Wynonna stopped suddenly, "I told you to never talk about that!"  
"And I don't!" she exclaimed.  
"Good!"  
"Best advice you ever gave me. Well… only advice, really."  
"Hey, I was a kid!" Wynonna said defensively. "Okay? I couldn't look after myself, let alone…"  
"What, your bratty little sister?" Waverly asked venomously.  
Wynonna sighed, "It's about the only thing I've ever done right."  
"Leaving me behind?"  
"Yeah, it gave you a chance," Wynona said.  
"Right. Yeah, well I'm not six anymore, okay? Look, I could help. We could fight this thing, this curse together!"  
"Waverly, there is no curse on—" Wynonna suddenly turned around, her switchblade open and at the throat of a man. Deputy Marshall Dolls.  
"Wynonna Earp?" he asked, clearing his throat. Wynonna lowered her knife and backed up toward her sister.  
"If my parole officer's asking, then no." Wynonna had always been good at quick replies and snarky comments. Entertaining, but they almost always led to trouble for her.  
"Is there somewhere that we can talk?" He asked, "We got your call. And I think this…" he pulled out her necklace, the one found at the crime scene, "belongs to you?" Wynonna lowered her head slightly, "So, you wanna tell me exactly what happened on that bus?" He put the necklace back into his inside pocket and pulled out his badge.

-*-*-*-

"Am I being charged with something?" Wynonna asked from Gus' kitchen. Dolls sat on the wooden table; his briefcase neatly placed in front of him. Wynonna was leaning against a tall wooden beam, reluctantly talking to Dolls, "Cause, trust me, having to ride the bus is punishment enough."  
"A girl is dead… Ms Earp." Dolls didn't think this was an appropriate time to joke. After all, a girl was dead, and he needed to figure out how and why.  
"I had nothing to do with that," Wynonna replied as she stood upright and walked towards the drink's cabinet. She needed something to calm her nerves. She riffled through the shelves until she found what she had been looking for. Whiskey.  
"I know. I spoke to the bus driver. He was scared. He said he heard something that spooked him, and that you and Kiersten were the only ones that fled the bus."  
Wynonna finished pouring herself a glass of whiskey and turned around, drink in hand. "I'm sorry, I'm…"  
"Drunk?" dolls finished for her.  
"Lost." Wynonna paused for a second before continuing, "Are you FBI? I didn't quite recognise the badge."  
As Dolls replied, Wynonna took a sip of her drink. "You've seen a lot of them given your criminal record."  
"Juvenile record," she shot back. "and that's supposed to be sealed when an offender turns eighteen, and I'm twenty-six…" she inhaled suddenly, a wave of realisation rushing over her. "Twenty-seven."  
"Happy birthday, by the way."  
He threw a file in her direction. It landed with a thud on the table. Wynonna walked over and sat on the table, rotating the record, so she was able to read it. She opened it for a brief second before closing it again. "U.S. Marshals, huh? You don't have jurisdiction up here."  
"Cross-border Task Force."  
Wynonna continued on, "What's with the charcoal star?"  
"Good eye. Denotes the Black Badge Division."  
"Is that some kind of covert branch?"  
"We monitor specific activity that has recently flared up in this area." Dolls replied bluntly.  
"What kind of activity?"  
Dolls paused for a brief moment before answering. "Unexplainable."  
As she stood, Wynonna sighed loudly then chuckled. She walked back over to the whiskey bottle and began to speak once again. "I either need way more or way less of this stuff, I'll tell ya." She took a swig from the bottle as Dolls cleared his throat.  
"You know what I think, Earp?" He stood up and walked towards Wynonna. "I think you saw what killed Kiersten."  
"Yeah. Coyote, a big one."  
"Is that the story you're sticking with?" Dolls stood directly behind Wynonna. They both stood in silence for a second, him waiting for an answer. Dolls turned his head to see behind him, "Where'd your sister go?"  
Wynonna whipped he head around, slamming her cup on the side. "You leave her out of this."  
"I just wanted to thank her for my coffee. You see the thing is, Wynonna, our division doesn't really see a lot of survivors, so any information that you have on how you outran…"  
"Yeah," she said nodding. "I got your card. Thanks."  
"Okay." Dolls swiftly walked over to the file on the table. "I'm sure you get this all the time, but is it ‘Earp' as in…?"  
"Good ole Wyatt, yep. He was my great-great-grandfather."  
"The greatest gunslinger that ever lived." Dolls picked up his sliver briefcase in one hand and the hefty file in the other. As he began to leave, he stopped beside Wynonna, "You a good shot too?"  
She cocked her head, "I don't do guns. Couldn't hit a lawman at zero paces. Fortunately."  
She feigned a sweet smile as Dolls resumed walking. The front door closed, and Wynonna heard the sound of shoes on wood. Her sister, Waverly appeared at the bottom of the stairs. The younger sister walked over and drummed her fingers on the wooden table. "He seems nice."  
"As a swift kick to the box."  
"So… your twenty-seventh birthday," Waverly said, perched lightly on the table.  
Wynonna turned around and once again grabbed the glass, "It doesn't mean anything, Waverly". She took another swig of her drink before pausing to listen to her sister.  
"Oh yeah? Then why'd you look so spooked? Huh?" Waverly felt triumphant. This feeling shattered into pieces less than a few seconds later.  
Once again, Wynonna turned to face her sister. The older girl sighed before she spoke, "Tell Gus I'm taking the truck."  
"What?" Waverly said, walking after her sister. "Where are you going?"  
Wynonna picked up the keys off of the edge of the table before she spoke. The answer Waverly received was both short and quiet; nonetheless, she still heard the word. It held a sort of power and fear for both the girls, "Home."

-*-*-*-

Wynonna drove the rusty, old pick-up truck over the rocky terrain, the frame creaking with every turn of the wheel. Once at her destination, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, she halted the truck and got out. Her boots crunched the dirt beneath as she walked onto the Earp homestead for the first time since that fateful night. Yellow police tape was strewn about the front garden, dead grass sitting in tufts around the bare porch. She opened the front door to a battered house, the contents strewn about the place. A sudden wave rushed over her, and the world went out of focus.  
"They say Wyatt took down 77 outlaws with this gun." Her father said to the three girls huddled around the table.  
"And now those outlaws are resurrected as revenants, coming for us," Willa remarked.  
Her father continued, "They won't rest until they gain freedom from their earthly prison."  
Waverly looked up from her drawing, "You'll stop them, daddy!"  
"You'll get ‘em," Wynonna encouraged.  
Her father smiled at the two youngest before continuing, "Willa's the eldest, the next Earp heir, destined to inherit Wyatt's abilities. Because the only thing that can put these demons down again, is you." He looked at Willa sternly, and suddenly the scenery shifted. 

"You said they can't attack the house!" she screamed at her father. Across the room, ravenous hands scratched at the window, prying hard for an opening.  
"They've figured out how to get around the bedrock!" their dad said. His heart was thumping in his chest and panic invaded his lungs.  
"What's happening?" the youngest daughter screamed in terror. Willa's eyes flickered around the wood-lined room. On a small table a few feet from her, she saw The Gun. The silver plating and inscriptions reflected the light from outside providing a small piece of light for the room. "I've got the gun, daddy!" she said as she ran and picked it up to bring it to her dad.  
"There's seven of them." Their father shouted back at Willa. As she retrieved the gun, her father pulled one of their many bookshelves over and covered one of the windows in their home. Suddenly, three bruised and dirty arms crashed through a window, clawing at the inhabitants. A stray arm grabbed the back of Willa's jumper and dragged her out of the window. The girls screamed. "NO!" their father shouted desperately.  
"Shotgun won't work," Wynonna said to Waverly, still crouched in the corner, "He needs Wyatt's gun." She ran over to the window where her sister had been standing moments ago and picked up the gun.

Wynonna snapped back to reality, her heart pounding from the nightmarish memory she had awoken from. On the table, she found her father's old deputy badge, covered in thick layers of dust. His voice rang out in her head.  
"I won't let them hurt anyone," Wynonna said to her father.  
"Good, because the only thing that can put these demons down again, is you."  
Directly in front of her, a piece of ripped parchment lay in between two ornaments ‘Welcome home, Wynonna.’ She picked up the paper., hands shaking with anger. She threw it onto the table and stormed out, a feeling of determination riling through her. "Waverly was right," she said as she opened the door to the truck. "We need that gun." She sat down and paused for a second, "And I'm talking to my truck." Wynonna turned the key in the ignition and backed away from the homestead. Unbeknownst to her, Malcom crouched below the entrance to the homestead. Once she was gone, he dialled a number on his phone. "Good news," he said to the person on the other end of the phone, "She took the bait. She'll fetch it for us." His grin expanded as he hung up the phone.

-*-*-*-

Back at Gus', Wynonna threw a rope, tarp and shovel into the back of the pick-up. As she opened the door, a voice stopped her in her tracks. "Were you going to ask to borrow my stuff?" Gus asked. Wynonna sighed heavily before Gus continued, "I noticed you already borrowed all my whiskey. I know Curtis may have stood for all that, but then he was soft on you."  
Wynonna hesitated before replying, "He was a good man, and deserved better than what happened to him." Wynonna walked over to Gus, so they were face to face. She spoke in a low tone, "Something took his head, Gus. Something or someone."  
"Oh, Wynonna," Gus turned and leaned on the side of the truck.  
"I know who killed him, and I got a plan."  
"That's not what I meant. You got that wild look in your eyes. You're manic, paranoid." Wynonna opened her mouth, outraged but unable to say anything. Venomously, Gus continued, "Probably off your meds. What's next? More demons?" Wynonna scoffed. Her own family didn't believe her. Although she wouldn't admit it, deep down, it broke her heart.  
"Yeah, I might be certifiable," she snapped back, "Got the paperwork to prove it. But something awful is happening in purgatory, and it has everything to do with my last name!"  
"You're not the only Earp in town. Waverly has worked so hard just to get out from under your shadow." Wynonna could feel the tears, but she forced herself to not break down. She sniffed audibly, and Gus looked away. Gus reached into her pocket and pulled out a white envelope. "I know it's your birthday so…"  
Wynonna pushed out a hand to stop Gus from giving her the gift. "Don't worry about that."  
Gus grabbed Wynonna's hand and put the envelope in her palm. "Enough for a one-way ticket back to Athens."  
"So, this is your gift for me?" she could feel the lump in her throat growing by the second.  
"And for your sister. I love you, Wynonna. But you're as broken as they come." Gus walked back up to the house, leaving Wynonna stood there, alone clutching the money in her hand.

-*-*-*-

The old framing of the well creaked as the rope pulled harder on its body. Using all of her might, Wynonna hauled herself up the side of the well, one hand clutching a slim object covered in a thin, pink fabric, the other grasping at the rope. She pulled herself over the top, panting with the effort.  
"Hello, Earp," a male voice rang out. Deputy Marshall Dolls stood opposite her, leaning on the hood of his car, "Thirsty?"  
Wynonna sighed at the presence of the man but continued to walk over to her truck. "No. This old well dried up a long time ago. Much like my tolerance for stalkers." She turned her head to look at him and sighed once more. He was following her to her truck. "No, really, are you following me?"  
"Happened to be driving by."  
"Well, if you wanted a date…"  
"I don't."  
Wynonna had reached her truck. She looked behind her to face Dolls. "Ouch," and opened the door. She reached across to the passenger seat and put the object down.  
"But I might be the one person that can help you."  
"Thanks," she said as she began to pull off her jacket. "But I'm more of a make-everything-worse kind of gal."  
"Oh, its gonna get worse. You think the thing that killed Kiersten is just going to let you live?" he peered over into the well, curious as to why she had been in there.  
As she responded, Wynonna pulled her now dirt ridden tank top over her head, her lacey black bra the only thing covering her. "Not if I'm already gone." She threw the dirty top into the truck and retrieved a clean, baby blue one. Dolls began to approach her once more.  
"Earp, I know what you know."  
"Okay, well you don't know me, Deputy." She said as she began to untwist her new top and pull it on. "Speak to the locals, they'll tell you."  
"Yeah, that you're mental, a bad seed.  
"Oh, you forgot scary good in bed." She turned around to face him. "What do you want from me?" she said emphatically. She went back into the truck to retrieve her leather jacket and put it on as he spoke.  
"I need someone that knows the area, its people. I want you to join my squad. Work for the right side of the law for once."  
Wynonna smiled in disbelief. She chuckled out loud. "You must be desperate."  
"The situation's desperate."  
"Okay, well, I don't do authority, all right? These days, I barely do sober." She got back into the driver's seat of the truck as Dolls sighed.  
"Then, I recruit Waverly. People in town rave about her."  
"I told you to leave her out of this!"  
"Clearly I'm talking to the wrong sister." Dolls was trying to antagonise her, to want to make her join out of spite. He didn't at all expect the response he got.  
"Yeah, you're all talking to the wrong sister! They took the good one into the hills and slaughtered her!"  
Dolls silently turned his head to look at her. "What was her name?"  
"Willa," Wynonna said, her voice breaking slightly, "I saw what being law did to my father. Whatever you've heard, getting deputised is what did him in."  
"My bosses consider what's happening here in Purgatory urgent, and they will do whatever it takes to protect their interests."  
"Well, good for them." She closed the door and put the key in the ignition. Despite this, Dolls moved closer.  
"So, what did you go down an old dried-up well to get, Earp?"  
He rested one hand on the roof of the truck. Wynonna leaned out of the window and spoke in a low, menacing tone. "Don't follow me again, I've had it up to here with surprises." Dolls tapped the roof of the truck and backed away, still looking at the woman. He walked over to his car and got in. Wynonna sat back in her seat and sighed heavily. She closed her eyes, and the memory came flooding back.  
"WILLA!" she screamed as she looked around the room, her heart racing. Her baby sister pulled at her sleeve.  
"You can't help! You aren't the heir!"  
Wynonna pulled the object and unwrapped it from its material confined. Wyatt's gun sat, the glistening in the sunlight  
"Shotgun won't work," Wynonna said to Waverly, still crouched in the corner, "He needs Wyatt's gun." She ran over to the window where her sister had been standing moments ago and picked up the gun.  
"No! No!" her father pleaded.  
Wynonna stood on the porch and aimed the gun at one of the revenants dragging her father away. The shot rang out, and her father stopped. His head arched backwards, and his words stopped utterly. He grunted and dropped to the floor. Wynonna stood, terrified and shaking, the massive gun in her small hands. Her little sister emerged from behind her. "DADDY!" her tiny voice shrieked shrilly.  
Wynonna threw the gun down and sped off. As she drove, the old tires threw dirt into the air, creating misty clouds behind her. Suddenly, her feet slammed the brakes. The tires squealed under the sudden change. She got out of the truck, gun in hand, and approached the sign she had passed earlier that very same day. It showed a small family of four driving along, ecstatic to be entering purgatory. Slowly, she raised the gun. "Get ready for awesome, little Cindy," she said as she aimed for the blonde girl sat in the back of the car, at the far right of the sign. She cocked the gun, inhaled and then fired. Miss. The bullet ricochetted off of the post to the far left. "Ok maybe if I get a little closer." She said, stepping forward a few steps. She shook herself off and aimed again. She cocked the gun, inhaled and then fired. Miss. This time, the bullet hit the signpost, rebounded off the top post and struck the glass bottle on the grass behind her. She looked back in shock. "Shit!"

Meanwhile, back at the well, the framing of the old well began to creak again, another person began to climb. Up and up they went until they finally reached the top. Only his hands were visible. His fingernails had been chewed down to the nibs, and his hands were cover in thick layers of dirt. On his left ring finger laid a ring; a small ruby encapsulated in a soil covered silver case. He was free.

-*-*-*-

Wynonna was back in town and keen on talking to her sister. Wynonna spotted her across the road, hugging an old lady. She just stood there, not wanting to interrupt whatever was happening. Behind her, a car door was heard slamming. She turned around as the person began to speak. "The black sheep returns."  
"Jesus!" she exclaimed, taken aback by the presence of the man. He walked up to her. "Waddle along now, Nedley."  
"Sheriff… Sheriff Nedley." The man replied. He was about 5'9", late forties and had an unkempt look about him. His grey stubble covered most of his face, except where. Thick, bushy moustache sat above his top lip. His blue eyes stared at Wynonna, showing no apparent emotion. "You keeping your fluffy hindquarters clean, or should I frisk you for old times' sakes?"  
Wynonna inhaled sharply and shook her head, "Wouldn't risk it. We both know you're one grope way from a heart attack." She smiled smugly before continuing, "Best stick to internet porn and the certainty of dying alone, don't you think?"  
He smiled back at her. "Why'd you even come back, Wynonna? Haven't the people who love you suffered enough?"  
"Probably." With that, she turned around and walked off. She stuck her middle finger up at the Sherriff, without missing a beat and kept it up until she was out of his sight. She knocked on the door of the apartment above Shorty's and called out. "Waverly? Champ?" she peeked her head in and turned on the light. The woman entered the home once again and closed the door behind her. Wyatt's gun sat contently in a holster above her right boot. Wynonna looked around as she delved deeper into the apartment. She rested on a desk in the corner of the room before moving a curtain coving a wall behind the clothes rack grabbed her attention. She approached the wall, confused. With one hand, Wynonna pulled one side of the curtain away to reveal what was hiding behind. The wall was plastered with a collage of old newspaper articles and photographs all related to the previous Earp heirs. Wynonna scanned the wall, shaking in disbelief. She pulled back the second curtain to discover even more of this strange collage her sister had created. The research was extensive, almost obsessive.  
"I told you," her sister said from behind. Wynonna slowly turned around to face the younger girl, "I'm ready to help." Waverly beamed at her sister  
Wynonna, still shocked and mildly confused, did not smile back. Instead, she replied, "What the sweet hell is this"  
"That? That's just the basics." Waverly walked over to her discarded clothing rail and pulled out a cardboard box filled with papers. "Look, everything I could find about our family. You know, Wyatt Earp. The people he killed. Look." She hauled the heavy box onto her desk and began rifling through the contents.  
"You're supposed to be normal, Waverly." Wynonna exclaimed as the younger sister's smile faded, "You're supposed to be safe!" She swatted her sister on the arm.  
"Ow!" Waverly inhaled before she replied. "You know, I scoured every library, every archive in the country, and you know what I never found? A reason why I can't break the curse."  
Wynonna exhaled audibly in shock at her sisters' statement. "Okay, how bout ‘cause your scrapbooking habit has taken a terrible turn?"  
"Good one." Her sister smiled at her. Her eyes drifted downwards to the holster on Wynonna's leg. "Oh, my God! Is that Wyatt's gun? You knew this where it was this whole time?"  
"Yeah, I was twelve. Panicked, I threw it away."  
"My God, it's beautiful," Waverly reached for the gun, but Wynonna stopped her and pushed her away. "Ow!"  
Still gripping onto her sisters' arm, Wynonna countered. "It's old, it doesn't shoot straight, and it's worth enough to buy us both a chrome condo five-thousand miles from here."  
Waverly removed her arm from her sisters' grip. "This is our home, Wynonna. I'll protect it, even if you won't."  
Wynonna shook her head. "You'll die!"  
"Not if I have this," Waverly made another attempt to grab the gun, but her sister yanked her away. "Look, we can use it. Ow! We can use it to kill our enemies!"  
"Enemies? Waverly, the only person this gun ever killed, was Daddy! When I shot him!"  
"You were trying to save him."  
"Yeah"  
"It was an accident."  
"Yeah." There were tears in Wynonna's eyes now. "And it ruined my life! I'm not going to let it ruin yours." Waverly sighed defeatedly. Wynonna began to leave her sisters apartment. "Pack this shit up. This time, you're coming with me."  
"Oh, yeah, run!" Waverly retorted from her seat on the table, arms folded. She got up and stood opposite her sister. "You always do."  
Wynonna turned to face her sister. "I'm serious. I'm taking the six-a.m. bus with or without you.  
"Right." Waverly nodded, her vision becoming blurred. "You know, of the things I've ever wanted to call you… you're such a coward."  
"Don't forget fraud," Wynonna said as she left the apartment. 

Downstairs at the bar, Wynonna sat alone pouring whiskey shots into her glass, her leather jacket draped on the counter to her right. The gun sat on her left. Its existence was menacing to her. She threw another shot back as a man nearby her, began to speak. "Mercy me." He spoke with a harsh southern twang. On his left ring finger laid a ring; a small ruby encapsulated in a beautiful silver case. "Now, is that what I think it is, little lady." The man was sat away from Wynonna. The rim of his black Stetson covered most of his face. All that was visible through the shadows was a thick black moustache and goatee, his beard nothing but stubble.  
"Let me guess," Wynonna retorted as she poured another shot. "Wyatt Earp fan? Came to see the place where he drank?" she scoffed and waved a hand. "You know what? Let your freak flag fly free," she threw back another shot  
"Oh, I am free." The man lifted his hat to reveal his face. His shoulder-length brown hair was shaggy and rested gently on his coat. "Free as a bird, and it's sublime." He turned his head to look at Wynonna.  
"Okay."  
The man began turned his body to face her as he continued speaking. "I ain't seen a Buntline Special in years." He gestured towards the gun, "May I?"  
Wynonna clumsily grabbed the barrel of the gun and looked over at the strange man. "You may not."  
"I do reckon I know that gun. Wyatt Earp christened it ‘Peacemaker.'"  
"You a collector?" Wynonna was well aware that she was flirting with the man, but she enjoyed toying with him.  
"Only of poker chips and hearts."  
Wynonna scoffed and removed her hand from the gun. Within an instant, the man picked it up and checked the butt of the weapon. He chuckled before he spoke. "Engraving his own initials? Seems rather gauche."  
"Doc Holliday had it done to celebrate his best friend's 50th kill." Wynonna lunged for the gun, but the man moved it out of her reach.  
"Sounds like he was soft on Wyatt."  
"'Peacemaker.'" She scoffed, "It's pretty rich. Do you have any idea how many people he killed with that thing?"  
"Are you implying Wyatt Earp was a hypocrite?"  
"I'm saying crazy runs in the family." She held out her palm for Peacemaker.  
"My apologies. I did not realise I was speaking with an Earp." He gave Wynonna back Peacemaker.  
"Bona fide." She turned and walked back to her seat.  
"Yeah, I just figured… you were a prostitute."  
Wynonna leaned back in her seat and laughed at the man's comment. "Prostitutes get paid for it," she said, shot in her hand. "He was good at killing, so they called him a hero." She scoffed. "What kind of person wants to be a gunslinger?"  
"Wyatt Earp wanted to be a farmer. Thirty seconds in the O.K. Corral and a gunslinger he was made. Sometimes, life chooses for us.  
"Your outfit's adorable." She threw back the shot. The man walked over to her so that their faces were mere inches apart. He lingered for a second. "Ma'am." He said, as he tipped his hat and walked off. Wynonna followed him with her eyes until he exited the bar. She was intrigued by this strange man. All she knew was that she liked what she saw. 

-*-*-*-

"Gus? I just came to say goodbye. Gus?" all of the doors in the house were open. Wynonna had finally made it to the back porch of Gus’ house. On the floor lay a chocolate cake with ‘Happy Birthday Wynonna' written in white chocolate icing. Then she spotted her. "Gus!" She laid still on the floor, blood covering her eyes and chin. Delicately, Wynonna placed a hand on each side of the older woman's face and lifted her slightly. Gus writhed and coughed under Wynonna. "Oh, God!" Gus coughed again, and a spurt of blood landed on Wynonna's wrist.  
"They took Waverly. You'll fix this." Wynonna nodded and tried to hold back the tears, forcing their way to her eyes. "He said ‘Tomorrow…'" Gus was interrupted by a pain in her stomach, causing her to groan. "… high noon." Wynonna whimpered as she slowly, Gus's body went limp. Wynonna slowly placed her down. As she began to stand up, a message on the window drew her attention. A message written in blood. ‘BRING THE GUN.' 

-*-*-*-

The next morning, Wynonna approached the silver car parked near Shorty's. The trunk was open, and Deputy Marshal Dolls perched on the edge, reading a document. "You're supposed to be following me! I called the number on your card 50 times."  
"I heard," he said, not looking up from his reading, "and I'm very sorry about Gus."  
"She's in intensive care, Dolls."  
"And I assure you, we are monitoring the situation." He stood up and placed the document in the car and this black-framed reading glasses into the inside pocket of his blazer.  
"Monitoring? I need to find who took my sister."  
"You know who took your sister. Officially, coyotes, and unofficially…" he turned to face her, "demons."  
Her eyes widened in shock. Heart pounding, she slowly backed away from Dolls. "You said it. You- you actually said…" she tried, but she couldn't get the word out.  
"Yes."  
Wynonna stopped. "They had me committed. They had me sent away!" Briskly, she walked back to where Dolls was stood. "We can find them Dolls."  
"How," he asked, slightly bemused. "They can blend in. They look just like us."  
"You won't help my sister?"  
"Wynonna…" he said flatly. "She's already dead." Without warning, Wynonna punched him in the face, turned and walked off. "You don't even know where they took her."  
"Sure, I do," she said without stopping. "Where this whole thing began.

Wynonna kicked the door into Shorty's open and stormed down the stairs. "There gonna be trouble?" Nedley asked, blocking her way.  
"If you don't move" She walked over to the bar and threw Shorty the white envelope filled with money Gus had given her the day before. "Shorty, I need the best ride in your stable."  
"I got a young black beauty. Packs a real sweet kick." They nodded at each other and Shorty led Wynonna to the stable to retrieve her new ride.  
A few minutes later, Wynonna emerged on the street, her beautiful new motorcycle humming contently beneath her. Wynonna drove with a purpose, not stopping for anything. She was going to save her sister, even if it was the last thing she did. At 11:59, Wynonna pulled in to the Earp homestead. She parked beside the mailbox and began to cross the small wooden bridge at the front of her land.  
"Guess you missed your bus," Waverly called out. She was perched precariously on a wooden stool, her tiptoes barely touching the footrest.  
"Yeah, kinda over busses." The revenants who had kidnapped her sister had placed a thick noose around her neck and stung it over the wooden beam which announced the Earp Homestead. The rope was then threaded through a pulley and tied onto a nearby fence to the left of Wynonna. "Hanging in there?"  
"It's terrible!" Waverly replied, her hands clutching to the rope strung around her neck. YOU PRICKS ARE WORM FOOD NOW!"  
Malcom emerged from within the home. As he spoke, he raised one solo finger, "Ah! One more step and little sis takes a short drop into oblivion."  
Wynonna raised her hands submissively. "Got a name, revenant?"  
"Well, back in your great-great-grandpappy's day," he said as he waved the gun in his hand for emphasis. "I was known as Malcom Ramaker, entrepreneur." He gave a slight bow.  
"An outlaw," Wynonna replied shortly.  
"You know, I remember the exact moment in 1866," he stood beside Waverly before continuing, "When Wyatt Earp had me hung for murdering my business partner. Too bad the hangman didn't set the noose very snug. It took fourteen long minutes for me to die."  
"Yeah, and now you're back."  
"Yes! And not alone! Boys!" Carl and John emerged from the home and joined Malcolm beside Waverly.  
"I know you two. You're local."  
"Some of us are," Malcolm replied shortly. "You see, when the Earp heir turns twenty-seven, those of us killed by the last one, well, we resurrect. A little more demonic than the time before," Out of sight of the rambling men, Wynonna winked at Waverly in reassurance. "But one way or another, we all end up in Purgatory."  
"Why'd you kill Curtis?"  
"To lure you back. Get you to fetch what we needed."  
"Peacemaker."  
Malcom chuckled at Wynonna. He had her right where he wanted her. Everything was going according to plan. "Please, get us the gun."  
"No, don't do it, they'll kill you!" Waverly begged as the men chuckled.  
"They'll try," Wynonna replied. Malcom pointed the gun at Waverly now. "Hey!" Wynonna began to back away. "Okay, okay. Here it goes. Look." Wynonna pulled the gun out of the holster and put it in the handlebars of the bike. "All right? All yours. Take the bike too." She began to walk back to her previous spot.  
"John," Malcom said as he gestured towards the bike. "Oh, Lordy, you are the most pathetic heir we have ever had!" John mounted the bike.  
"That's me. Now cut her down! You Welch on a deal, you don't get to ride." She said to John.  
"Somebody shut her up," he retorted.  
"Carl," Malcom instructed, "You grab Wynonna. We're gonna have two dead Earps for the price of one."  
"How the hell do you start this thing?" John asked no one in particular.  
As carl approached her, Wynonna ducked to the side and pushed him hard into the grassy bank beside her. She began to walk towards Malcom, "Like his." She reached into her back pocket and pulled out and Keys. She clicked the button, and the bike along with John exploded. The force of the blast sent her jolting forwards, but it also caused Waverly to lose her footing. Wynonna sprinted over to her sister and grabbed her legs, enabling her to breathe. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Malcom get up. She looked up at her sister and said, "Deep breath, baby girl!"  
"What!" her sister exclaimed.  
Carl began to walk towards the girls again, "Now!"  
Waverly inhaled, and Wynonna let go of her sister. The feeling she had experienced in the woods returned. Wynonna jumped up and roundhouse kicked Malcolm in the face, causing him to fly to the ground. Wynonna quickly turned around and ran to the stool beside her sister and picked it up. Waverly regained her footing and began panting. As Malcolm stood up, gun in hand, Wynonna dove across the bridge to retrieve Peacemaker from where it had landed in the explosion. She rolled onto her back and aimed at Malcolm. "You think you can best me?" He shouted, his eye turning red, and his voice deepening into a growl.  
"I am gonna put you in the ground like it's my job." Wynonna stood up, "'Cause you know what? I'm starting to think it is."  
"True, you may have the one gun that could put me back to hell," he shifted the gun so that the barrel was aiming directly at Waverly's head. "But I'm gonna take your baby sister with me, you stupid, crazy bitch!"  
"You wanna know how batshit I am? Nobody shoots my family, but me."  
Wynonna cocked the gun and pointed it directly in between Waverly's eyes. Slowly, she shifted the weapon upwards, so the barrel now aimed at the pulley, and she fired. The bullet ricocheted off of the pulley, bringing the rope down, off of a windmill and planted itself inside of Malcolm's gun. He dropped the weapon and chuckled. The glowing symbol appeared on the side of his face once more. Close up, it looked more like his skin was breaking apart in the shape of an unknown symbol and revealing the hellfire within. "You are the heir."  
"Sealed with a lead kiss." The barrel of Peacemaker lit up with glowing orange runes. She fired. The bullet landed between Malcolm's eyes. Instead of bleeding, a hole of fire opened up where the bullet had entered. Suddenly, Malcolm began to sink into the ground, fire spontaneously appearing and climbing his legs. Malcolm continued to descend, screaming and clawing, desperately trying to escape its clutches, but to no avail.  
Wynonna ran over to Waverly to check on her, "You okay, baby girl?"  
"Yeah" Waverly replied, her voice mildly scratchy.  
"All right. Oh, Jesus. Okay"  
A faint, grunting noise grabbed Waverly's attention. She looked up and pointed towards the grass bank. "Carl!"  
Wynonna pulled peacemaker out and tried to reload it. "Stupid carl!" Waverly cried out.  
"All right, make this friggin' thing work?" Wynonna said fiddling with Peacemaker. She aimed at carl and fired. An empty click greeted her ears and panic washed over her. "Nuts!"  
From afar, a shot could be heard, and Carl dropped to the ground.  
"What? You brought back up? Waverly asked.  
"Mm. Yeah." She lied.  
"Hey, you came back for me." She patted her sister's knee.  
"Duh," she squeezed the younger girl's face, "I'm nuts, remember?" She used her sister to help herself back up, then grabbed her hand and hauled her to her feet. "Come on!"  
A Black Yukon XL came speeding up to the girls, "Get in!" Dolls shouted, barely stopping the vehicle.  
"Couldn't get a bigger truck?" Wynonna teased.  
"Nope!" He hopped out of the truck and opened the door for the girls. He covered them as they got in. "You good?"  
"Yeah," Wynonna replied from inside the truck.  
Dolls opened the drivers' door and got in and drove away as fast as he could. 

At Gus', Wynona sat on the fence around the porch, her back leaning on a supporting post. Her sister approached and leaned on the wall a few centimetres along from her. "Gus is getting discharged tomorrow.  
"I put fresh flowers in her bedroom."  
Waverly turned her back and hopped onto the fence with her sister. "God! What happened to Wyatt Earp to make us… deserve this?" They looked at each other for a moment. Silent understnading passed over the sisters. "You're really staying this time, aren't you?"  
"That's why they call it a curse."  
Waverly chuckled and lowered her head. "Well, looks like you're not the only one sticking around."  
She looked at the black truck approaching. They both smiled but Wynonna suddenly stopped, regaining her composure. "Big city, leather loafers. Douche."  
The sisters heard the truck door closing as Waverly replied, "Great butt thought."  
"Yep."  
Dolls approached the girls, file in hand. "Let's talk," he said to Wynonna.

"You're serious?" Wynonna exclaimed.  
"That's a first-degree murder charge of Kiersten Lesko and not to mention, you're also wanted for questioning in an open B & E case.  
"This is blackmail, you dick!"  
"This is big government. You went up against demons twice and survived. We want you.  
"Get in line!"  
"So, your first job is simple:" Dolls stuck up one finger for each objective, "identify and eradicate Wyatt Earp's kills."  
"Revenants." Wynonna interrupted, "My dad always called then revenants."  
"Before they leave the territory and have the chance to slaughter every man woman and child in this country."  
"They can't leave Purgatory."  
"Oh, wait a minute. Are you telling me the demons are trapped here?"  
Wynonna winced in reply. "It's classified."  
"Cute."  
"Doll's, thank you. For coming for us. You know, covering from the trees.”  
Dolls got closer to Wynona so that they were no more than 3 inches apart. He inhaled sharply and leaned in, further closing the gap "It's Deputy Marshal Dolls. And things will go a lot smoother if you follow my lead.” He began to walk away.  
"I highly doubt that. And I'm picking my own team!"  
"You've got a team, deputy." He reached into the pocket of his windbreaker and threw an object to Wynonna. "Welcome to the black badge division."  
Wynonna looked at the badge he threw her. Wynonna Earp was officially a lawman. ‘Special Deputy' she sighed and but the badge in her back pocket before walking over to join her sister on the porch. 

-*-*-*-

The man from the bar sat outside of his caravan, legs rested up on the empty beer barrel across from him. He lit the cigar in his hand and sighed contentedly. A man with shark-like teeth approached the man. "He's actually letting you stay here?" the shark-toothed man asked.  
"Well, it seems that way."  
"You'd be more comfortable in town, with your own kind.”  
The man took a long draw from his cigar before replying, "I reckon I'm the only one of my kind left."  
In the near distance, people were shouting in joy. Engines revved loudly almost drowning out the celebratory chanting. "Some of the boys are claiming it was you in the hills who shot Carl, provided cover for the heir. "  
"The heir to what?" The man asked dubiously, "Wynonna is one thing: a disgrace to the Earp name."  
"I'm warning ya, just keep to the outskirts."  
"And miss the reunion?" The man gestured to the source of the noise  
"That's not a reunion," The shark-tooth man said, turning around. When he faced the man again, his eyes were red, his face had a strange fiery symbol, and his voice was a low growl. "It's a war party." The shark-tooth man ran back to his friends, all of whom were dancing, drinking and shouting. They were revenants. Each and every one of them.

**Author's Note:**

> If this is received well, ill continue to adapt the episodes. In the future, I'll do some more *original* content, you know, Wayhaught, Supercorp, Sanvers, Hollstein, etc. Send some prompts my way, if you want. Leave a comment with your thoughts, opinions etc.


End file.
